Toby let out a cold snort.
"What's the holdup here?"
"The service standards in this place are really going downhill. Can't you see there's a broke nobody here ruining the atmosphere?"
The manager froze, then followed Toby's gaze toward me.
"So sorry, so sorry. I'll take care of it right away."
He bowed and scraped before Toby, his voice dripping with flattery.
Then he turned to me, his expression hardening.
"Sir, this is a fine dining establishment, not a homeless shelter. I'm going to have to ask you to leave immediately."
He gestured toward the door with an open palm.
"You hear that?"
Toby slapped me lightly across the cheek, grinning with satisfaction.
"Broke losers need to know their place. If you can't afford it, don't come in here pretending you can!"
I didn't move.
Toby took my stillness for fear, and it only made him bolder.
His hand came down harder the next time.
"Tsk, tsk. Should've made sure you rotted in that cell a few more years. At least then you wouldn't be out here embarrassing yourself."
I smiled. It was the kind of smile that carried no warmth at all.
"Toby, I think those words suit you a lot better than they suit me."
"Or have the good times lasted so long that you've forgotten what it was like, crawling through garbage heaps looking for scraps?"
Toby had grown up in the slums.
He was thirteen when I found him.
Dressed in rags, hunched over a pile of trash, picking through it for something to eat.
I handed him the rest of my bread.
He snatched it and crammed it into his mouth in two bites, barely chewing.
I turned to leave.
But Toby dropped to his knees and grabbed the leg of my pants, clinging to it with both hands.
I felt sorry for him. So I took him home.
I paid for everything, all the way through college.
After he graduated, I got him a position at the company as Fay's personal assistant.
I never imagined that one moment of compassion would be the very thing that dragged me into hell.
A wolf is a wolf. No amount of kindness will tame it.
The person I'd given everything to was the same person who buried the knife deepest in my back.
Like so many people who forget where they came from once they make it.
Those years in the slums.
For Toby.
They were forbidden territory.
A past he never wanted anyone to mention.
His face twisted in an instant. He looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, fur standing on end. He jabbed a finger at me and screamed.
"You piece of trash! You want to die?!"
"A broke nobody like you doesn't get to bring up my past!"
"Keep talking and I'll cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs!"
I watched him lose control, and that cold smile stayed right where it was.
"Cut my tongue out?"
"You really think you have what it takes?"
"Try not to go running back to hide in your woman's arms and cry about it."
"You..."
Toby choked on his own rage, finger still pointed at me, unable to get a single word out.
His face cycled between white and red.
It was the shame and fury of a man whose truth had been ripped wide open.
"Duke Gilbert, you're a dead man today."
Toby locked his eyes on me, and the look in them was pure venom.
The atmosphere in the restaurant shifted in an instant.
The noisy private dining room went dead silent, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
The way everyone looked at me changed too.
Like they were watching a fool who'd just signed his own death warrant.
Everyone knew Toby Weiss was Fay Galloway's favorite, her most treasured pet.
Galloway Group had been on a meteoric rise these past two years, going from strength to strength.
In this city, nobody dared disrespect Galloway Group.
Crossing Toby was the same as crossing the entire Galloway empire.
Toby whipped around to the security guards behind him and roared.
"What are you standing around for? Get him! Show this lowlife what happens when he pisses me off!"
The words had barely left his mouth before two burly guards surged forward and seized my arms, one on each side.
